


One for the Father

by RowanSparrow



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Mentioned Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Or it can be HankCon I guess?, Other, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Son!Connor, Trauma, dad!hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowanSparrow/pseuds/RowanSparrow
Summary: Connor goes to a coffee shop to pick up some treats for Hank, but he is harassed by anti-android humans. He needs some comfort and reassurance from Hank.
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 146





	One for the Father

_Current Objective: Get breakfast  
Primary Directive: Return before Hank wakes up_

RK-800, now permanently going by his chosen name of “Connor”, stood in line at the little coffee shop on the corner, just a block away from his favorite place to grocery shop for Hank. He didn’t need to sleep, but it creeped Hank out whenever Connor just sat there in the living room, waiting for Hank to wake up.

So instead, Connor simulated sleep by temporarily shutting down his systems at night, and rebooted them every morning at 5 am sharp. He went through his usual routine – get up, check on Hank, and walk Sumo – and usually, the next step was to make breakfast. Today, however, Connor altered his usual routine, and instead of going back in the house and starting breakfast, he decided to go out and bring breakfast in. As much as he tried to integrate fruit and other healthy foods in Hank’s diet, he knew it was good for the old man to have food he wanted every now and then.

Which was how Connor ended up standing in line at the coffee shop, analyzing the contents of the pastry shelf before finally settling on a fruit Danish for Hank and a black coffee. The Danish was still a pastry, but at least it had fruit in it.

_Current Objective: Get breakfast  
Primary Directive: Return before Hank wakes up_

He stepped up to the front of the counter, and smiled at the young woman working – a fellow android, it was rare to see humans working jobs in food service or retail these days, even after the revolution – and took her hand, paying her directly through the interface. 

“I’d like a fruit Danish and a black coffee please,” he paused for a moment. “And I’ll have one of the breakfast sandwiches as well.” He added.

“Certainly.” The android replied, getting Connor’s order together.

“I thought androids couldn’t eat.”

_Analyzing… audio processors enhanced._

Connor listened to the two people talk behind him as he stepped over to the side counter to pick up his items.

“Maybe it isn’t eating, maybe it’s taking it back to its -.”

“Quiet, you want it to kill us? We can’t say things like master anymore, you’re gonna get us in trouble.”

“I’ve actually heard that they’ve learned to simulate eating, so they can better blend in with us.”

“It’s all a ploy to take over. They started with our jobs, and now they’re trying to blend in enough that they can kill us easier. Humans would all be going extinct if it were up to these machines!”

Connor’s LED spun yellow, and he turned around to face the people.

“Pardon me,” he began, keeping his voice chipper despite the yellow on his LED. “I couldn’t help but overhear -.”

“Overhear my ass.” One of the men in the group snapped. “You machines are always listening to us, always plottin’ ways to get to us!”

_Analyzing… Bertram Fitzgerald. Age 43. Unemployed._

“Quite the contrary,” Connor responded. “It’s just that you’re being rather loud.” He gathered his bag of pastries and the coffee for Hank before turning back to them. “And this isn’t for me, nor is it for my Master,” had Connor been just a bit more human, he would have thought the word tasted bitter in his mouth. “This is for my roommate.”

“If you want to become more human, why do you still have your light?” An older looking woman in the group asked.

_Analyzing… Katheryn Fitzgerald. Age 60, Retired. Known associates: Bertram Fitzgerald. Son. Age 43._

Why _did_ he keep his LED? All it did was make him stand out more.

Connor’s LED spun red for a beat in his own confusion, and Bertram Fitzgerald jumped back. “He’s gonna attack!!” He screamed, shoving his family back.

Connor dropped the coffee and pastries as the other people in the coffee shop started to react to Bertram’s shouts. Most people just made a commotion. A few stood up. Several ran.

_Current Objective: CANCELLED  
New Directive: Leave the Shop_

Connor’s LED was a vibrant red as he hurried out of the shop and down the streets. His memory processors were going haywire, he couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t make heads or tails or where he was going and what he was doing. He kept thinking back to the revolution – to pointing a gun at Markus – Hank pointing a gun at him -.

_ERROR. ERROR. ERROR. SYSTEMS OVERHEATING. STRESS LEVELS: 82%_

He ignored people shouting at him, ignored the feeling of things – _Analyzing… CANCEL. Analyzing… CANCEL._ – and just kept running.

~

Hank sipped his coffee slowly, scrubbing a hand over his face. He didn’t know where the hell Connor had gotten off to, but he wasn’t going to stress himself out about it just yet. Maybe he was just going for a walk – Connor was his own person now, he didn’t have to report every little thing he did to Hank -.

The door thudded open rather abruptly, the edges of the wood splintering slightly, and Hank jumped, his coffee spilling over his hand and burning him. He cursed, standing up abruptly and shaking his hand off as Sumo barked from the floor, lifting his massive head.

“Connor?!” Hank said, running cool water over his hand and grabbing a hand towel. “Jesus, what’s gotten into -.”

Hank stopped mid word, noticing Connor’s LED spinning a frantic red.

“Hey,” He adjusted his tone, a little gentler now. “Con, everything okay? Did something happen?”

_CURRENT OBJECTIVE: Reassure Hank_

Connor shook his head, trying to get himself under control. “Everything is fine, Lieutenant.” He said, activating his coolant systems to try and bring his stress levels down. “I’m sorry, I stepped out for a moment to try and -.” He cleared his throat. His voice modulator hit the fritz for a moment, making his voice shake. “I was getting you breakfast, and I -.”

“Easy.” Hank said, stepping up to him and putting a gentle hand on his bicep. “It’s alright, Connor. What’s got you so upset?”

_CURRENT OBJECTIVE: Reassure Hank  
CURRENT STRESS LEVELS: 76%  
SYSTEM OVERHEATED! ERROR!  
COOLDOWN SYSTEM ACTIVATED_

His visual processors began to mist, water droplets rolling down his cheeks. Hank seemed surprised.

“Jesus, Connor.”

He didn’t sound angry – never angry, not truly. Not at Connor – but he sounded _upset._ Worried.

Hank pulled Connor into his arms, sitting on the couch with him and just holding him close. “Didn’t know you had it in ya to cry, bud.” He chuckled nervously, squeezing him a little tighter. “Did something happen?”

Connor didn’t answer right away, still trying to control himself.

_CURRENT STRESS LEVELS: 72%  
SYSTEM OVERHEATED! ERROR!  
COOLDOWN SYSTEM ACTIVATED_

Connor’s auditory processors picked up on Hank’s heartbeat, calm and steady, beating through his chest.

 _CURRENT STRESS LEVELS: 42%_  
COOLDOWN SYSTEM DEACTIVATED  
CURRENT OBJECTIVE: Talk to Hank

“I went to get you coffee.” Connor explained, sitting up slightly and calming down, his LED back to a hesitant, shaky yellow. “There were people there talking. They thought I was going to attack them, just because I was an android.” He chuckled. Forced. “I guess there’s still some mistrust after the revolution.”

“Fuck ‘em.” Hank replied immediately. “They don’t know you like I do, Con, like Markus or the others do either for that matter. You’re a big part of how the androids got their freedom.”

“Which is why the humans mistrust me.” He hesitated. “Maybe I should remove my LED, blend in a bit better.”

“For what?” Hank asked. “You’re gonna take away a part of yourself just to make the fuck heads around you a little more comfortable?” He shook his head. “Don’t. It’s not worth it, kiddo. You shouldn’t have to lower yourself for their fucked up standards. Just because somebody doesn’t understand you, that doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

Hank gave Connor a measured look, and Sumo wandered over to the couch, booping his big, wet nose against Connor’s hand. Connor hummed, scratching Sumo behind the ears.

“I suppose you’re right.” Connor said.

“I’m always right.” Hank replied with a little huff, reaching for what was left of the coffee in his mug.

Sumo was trying to clamor up onto the couch now, his big paws stepping all over Hank and Connor before he finally flopped down on their laps, panting heavily and drooling all over Hank’s thighs.

“Goddammit, Sumo.” Hank grumbled, but made no move to push the dog off, instead scratching his free hand through his fur, the dog licking his hand with every movement.

“Now,” Hank continued, turning back to Connor while still running a hand through Sumo’s thick fur. “If you ever do wanna change somethin’ about you, bet it your little uh… your little light thing – LED – or your face or your dumbass little puppy eyes or whatever, then as long as it’s on your terms and nobody else’s…” He cleared his throat. “You just say the word, and I’ll do whatever you need to help.”

Connor chuckled, and nodded, scratching Sumo is his favorite spot between his shoulders. “Thank you, Hank.”

“Yeah. And if anyone tries anything with you again, tell me and I’ll punch their fuckin’ face in.” Hank said, balling up a fist to make a point. “I mean it.”

Connor nodded. “I know you do.” Sumo barked softly in agreement, twisting his head to lick Connor’s face.

“Good.” Hank nodded, working his legs free from under Sumo. “Get up, you big lug, up. Gotta get movin’ and your big body’s in the way.” he told the dog, picking him up with surprising strength and putting him back on the ground. Hank stood, ruffling a big hand through Connor’s pristinely styled hair, messing it all up. “C’mon son, I need more coffee and some breakfast.”

_CURRENT OBJECTIVE: Make breakfast for Hank_

“Coming.” Connor said, standing up, smoothing down his hair, and quickly heading to the stove. “What would you like?”

“I’m thinkin’ I’ll show you how to make French Toast.” Hank said, shuffling around in the cabinet for ingredients.

“I know how to make French Toast, Hank, I’ve done it before.”

“You’ve followed whatever Podunk recipe those CyberLife Drones put in your head.” Hank griped. “You haven’t made _real_ French toast, the good kind. The kind that makes you believe in God.” He said with a serious nod. “Put an apron or something on. I don’t wanna be cleaning syrup out of your rotors or whatever. We’re gonna do this together.”

Connor smiled, grabbing an apron.

_REVISED CURRENT OBJECTIVE: Make breakfast with Hank._

“Yes sir.”

Hank chuckled softly, putting his hand back on Connor’s head, messing up his hair all over again. Sumo yawned, pawing over to his big dog bed in the corner of the room and curling up, watching Hank and Connor until his eyes got heavy and the smell of French toast drifted peacefully through the kitchen.

All was well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find me on tumblr @rowansparrow-writing. I take commissions!


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